Lion Hearts
by madgehawthorne
Summary: Hunger Games AU ( Madge and Gale ). Madge, an odd blonde living in the Seam finds her life spiraling downwards as her best friend volunteers to save her sister's life in the games and she's left behind to cope with the aftermath. However, strangely enough, she develops a peculiar bond with a tall, dark son of a mayor.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything even remotely related to the Hunger Games, wish I did but I don't. Please remember that this is an AU ****_fanfiction _****by ****_me_**** so I may have chosen to change a few more unexpected details, so please don't be upset and I hope you enjoy! xxx**

* * *

There's a light ruffling of leaves, the faint snap of a bow as my arrow shoots through the air and a thump as the deer falls to the ground, dead as a doornail with my arrow sticking out of it's head. I'm no Katniss, who's never missed a shot in her life and always gets them in the eye, but I'm no stranger to hunting either. Traps and snares are my speciality. I'm good with the bow, but an artist with the wires. As you grow older, you lose more of your will to live (in the Seam, at least) yet strangely find yourself fighting harder and harder at the days go by to do so.

I sling the bow back over my shoulder and go to retrieve my arrow. I walk towards the doe, and find she's relatively small and bony, which in this case is a good thing since my game bag is already quite full. I get out my hunting knife and sever off her knees and shins, then start sawing at her head. I don't particularly like playing with my prey, but I don't have a choice if I want it all to fit conspicuously, especially today with all the extra peacekeepers.

I can hear footsteps approaching from behind. I recognize them immediately.

"You ready, Madge?" Katniss's voice rings softly through the forest. She's already put her bow away and has two dead turkeys slung over her shoulder.

"Yeah." I reply as I stuff the last of the deer into my game bag and stand up. The grass is covered in blood but I'm relatively spotless, just a few stains on my hands and a smudge on my knee.

I put away my own bow and Katniss bags her birds. We walk in silence, side by side out of the forest and into the meadow. We stick together; always have and always will. Once we're back inside the District on the other side of the fence, we're extra careful. Reaping day is the most quiet day of the year and I'm willing to bet we're the only ones walking around on the streets right now. Might as well sleep in, if you can.

We remain completely silent until we reach the doors of the Hob, which happens to be throbbing with life, as usual. We're greeted by familiar, soot-covered wrinkled faces and welcomed back into the crowd of crooks and traders trying to survive in this cruel, pathetic world.

After years of bargaining and doing business at the Hob, we know our way around by heart and can no longer be tricked into unfair deals. We know exactly what we want, who we want it from and how much we're willing to pay.

"Morning, Albert." I say to the gruff old man behind one of the tables. Albert is a tall, well built man which could only mean he used to work in the mines, with typical grey eyes and hair so white which could only mean it used to once upon a time be blond. He smiles his almost toothless smile at me.

"What can I do for ya, sugar?" He asks, using the nickname I absolutely detest. If it were anybody else, they would have already gotten a painful bony flick to the forehead.

"Special delivery," I say curtly and lightly, resting my game bag on the table and pulling out the deer. It's far too big for my father and I and I'm not in the mood for more brutal cutting. Besides, deer meat tends to be tough and muscular, and so we (including Katniss and her family) avoid it when we can. Sometimes there's no choice.

Albert takes his time inspecting the meat and at last names his price: "Eighteen PDs*" He declares.

"What?! Twenty one at least!" I protest- wide eyed and open mouthed, slamming my cold hands on the table, which causes some people to turn around and stare.

"Sorry, sugar. Times are tough, you know. This is the most any old hag in this hole s' gonna offer ya." He says grimly. I trust Albert, and deep down I know he's right. He's always looked out for me, in his own peculiar kind of way.

So finally, we make the trade after he adds another fifty PCs (Panem Cents) to the price and I bug along, making my way around the stalls until I've sold and traded all I can, leaving just enough to split between Katniss and I.

I bug along, finding my way around the stalls, selling and trading what I can, leaving just enough to split between Katniss and I.  
When I'm done, I wait for her by the entrance and within a few minutes, she's there. We walk out in silent agreement we walk out and head towards the town. That's how it is between me and Katniss, we don't even have to talk. _We just know. _We're so alike and used to each other, our company is the most natural thing in the world. A grey-eyed me. A blonde version of her.

* * *

Ever since we were little girls, we'd been sticking up for each other. From sharing clothes to having sleepovers, Katniss and I became sisters. We both live in the Seam, me with my father (my mother passed away during the peak of her illness when I was only eight), Katniss with her mother and sister (her father was killed in a mining explosion when she was nine).

It was on my tenth birthday when Katniss had first invited me to hunt with her. My father had broken his wrist in the mines and was sent home to recover with the bare minimal sick leave allowance. I was so starved that my hair had begun to fall out in the school bathroom. She was there, of course, and told me she wanted to show me something after school.

So, there she was, pulling my bony carcass under the fence and welcoming me into the forest- and the rest is history.

* * *

We circle off, turning the corner into the _really _high end of town. When we reach the last building, we climb up the marble stairs and Katniss rings the doorbell as I brace myself. A few moments later the door opens up and we're face to face with the Mayor's eldest son, Gale Hawthorne. Katniss does all of the talking since she and Gale have this weird almost-friendship. His father has a soft spot for strawberries, and luckily Katniss and I have the means to provide him with the berries he craves so dearly. For a price, of course.

I've been too lost in my thoughts that Katniss has to nudge me with her elbow. Automatically, I lean forward to hand him the small basket of wild red fruit when our fingers accidentally brush. I do my best to keep a cold face but I can see a hint of peach rise up to his face. He smells like strong soap and cologne. The scent is so foreign to my system it hits me like a wall and I start to feel nauseous. His hair is all slick and combed back, his skin seems a bit too lively for district 12. He's just so... _clean. _

He's wearing a pin-stripped suit with a silk handkerchief folded perfectly in the front pocket. Now I really feel sick. However, the whole thing only lasts a second before I'm back and free at Katniss's side. He gives her the coins and when she begins to count them, he shakes his head and tells her to keep the change. _The nerve! _She shrugs and stuffs it into her pocket. I open my mouth to protest but think better of it and don't. Not today, not on reaping day. Instead all that comes out as we start to back away are the two simple words:

"Nice suit." My tone of voice is completely flat as I realize what an idiot I must look like, jaw hanging there as though I'd swallowed my own tongue.

I'm already on the third step when I hear a genuine "Thanks," leave the lips of Gale Hawthorn. Or was it genuine? I'm confused by the nature of my own comment, since it was indeed a great suit- but I hated him for being able to afford it. Did he pick up on that or was he sure that I was merely being kind? The only thing I'm sure of is that I'll never find out.

* * *

On our way back to the Seam we can already start to see people awake in their windows and a few out on the street, so we strike up a mindless conversation.

"I wish we could just run away. Into the forest. Fuck this! Fuck the Games!" I say, perhaps a little too loud and Katniss isn't afraid to shut me up. I can't help myself. It needs to come out.

"Shh, Madge!" She tries to hush me. "Not here, not today. Besides, we have families to think about. Good luck dragging your father an inch past the town square. And Prim- can you imagine her out there in the wilderness?"She adds, trying to push some reason into my hot head.

We don't say much after that, and when we need to part ways, we begin to split our assets of the day. The money we earned, the turkeys we saved, a small piece of bread, some goat cheese she got from Prim and a small amount of salt we decided to splurge on for the occasion. Just as a treat for today.

* * *

I gently turn the knob and open the door to the small and weary Seam house which I share with my father. Although he's quite old, retired and no longer works in the mines, he's not completely incapable. Surprisingly he's already up and halfway ready. On the table waiting for me are two plates, each with a small fried egg and a few cooked root vegetables. He made me breakfast.

Life has always been extremely hard for my father, and even though my name is in the reaping bowl more times than I can count, even though I have been the soul provider for this family for a long time now, I never once blamed him. The fact that he saved up and went out of his way to make me breakfast means more to me than I could ever possibly explain.

I give him half a hug and a brief peck on the cheek and we sit down together, as we usually do in the evening. I'm still in my hunting gear and I've never been good at this sort of thing- affection, I hear they call it. I wolf down my portion and give up waiting for him to finish his. I excuse myself and go to boil some water for a bath. Due to the lack of time I can't boil enough of it and the ratio turns out all wrong, meaning that's it's still cold.

Afterwards, when I'm all dried off I pull on the only fancy things I own. My dress is a faded creamy white and used to belong to my mother when she was younger than me. I've been putting it to use for several years now, and the hem doesn't even reach my knees. However, it does cling to my thin frame in a way that makes me look almost half-decent rather than malnourished and poor.

I need to take a second to remind myself why I care; if they're taking away my life and my father's will to live then why on earth should I put on a show for them? Either way, in this thing, with the top of my back and my lower arms exposed the way they are I'll freeze to death before they even have a chance to get their hands on me.

I don't know what to do with my hair and since I can't find my comb, I tie the only ribbon I own (a pink one I got from my grand mother when I was born) into it and hope Mrs. Everdeen doesn't use it as an excuse to start fiddling with me. My blonde hair is still a bit wet but has begun to dry into blonde waves with split ends which I promised her she could cut off.

It's time to leave so I pull on my only pair of shoes (not counting my blood-stained hunting leathers), some black leather ancle boots which my father took the liberty to polish last night. I'm finished and so is he, so we lock the front door and head towards the town center for the actual reaping.

* * *

The square is packed, people from all over the district have gathered to watch and take part in the whole ordeal, Seam kids and Townies alike. I shoot my father a neutral look before heading off to the center of the square. What am I supposed to say? I'm so sorry that we're poor and I'm probably going to get reaped? I look away before I let it get to me and try to clear my mind.

When they start to corral us off I'm desperate to find Katniss, and find her I do, with little Prim holding onto her for dear life. Of course, it's her first year. I push and shove through the crowd of girls and make it to them in time. Again, there's no need for words. I give Prim a reassuring hug and compliment her hair. The back of her shirt is sticking out of her skirt but I'm sure she already knows.

Prim is like a little sister to me, since I have none of my own. I figure since we're already in town and there's a spare coin in my pocket (well technically it's not spare, since I put it there intentionally and I don't actually have any money to spare) we can all go to the candy shop afterwards and buy some peppermints or something.

I'm about to voice my plan when we're silenced by our mayor, Gale's father. Then, our _ wondrous _Effie Trinket takes to the stage in her 8"" heels and skin-tight costume. She looks like a plastic bubblegum doll with her ridiculous bright pink hair and plastic face. It makes me sick to my soul.

Her shrill voice rings through the town center- and her accent. _Oh, her horrible, horrible accent... _Not two hours ago were me and Katniss out in the woods making fun of it. They play the damn video and the anthem and I can feel myself getting more and more antsy by the second. I grab hold of Katniss's hand and she squeezes back tightly. She;s got her hair up in intricate braids and a pang of jealousy shoots through my veins. My mother used to braid my hair, back when she could actually stand up and wasn't confined to her bed.

When the film which I have been trying to block out with every fibre of my being comes to an end, Effie shuffles her way back to the microphone, announcing that the reaping has officialy begun.

"Ladies first," she said way too happily, dipping her hand into the glass bowl and moving it around, getting a good feel of all the papers before pulling out one of the tags.

_And then everything stops._

My head starts to throb and I begin to feel dizzy, realizing that I've forgotten how to breathe. My grip on Katniss's hand is so tight I;m surprised it hasn't fallen off and my heart is beating so fast and dramatically I can practically feel it banging against my ribcage. It's beating so hard and I can hear is it's internal rhythm as blood rises to my head I feel myself freeze. My hands are clammy and the hairs on my neck stand up as Effie scoots closer to the microphone and unfolds the paper.

If possible, my heart beats even faster and I can actually feel the waves of adrenaline gushing through my body as my stomach tenses and I hear her call out loud and clear:

"Primrose Everdeen"

And then all of a sudden everything stops, all the nerves go away, as though I'm drained of all my blood and all my thoughts. I imagine the sensation is somewhat like standing at the edge of a tall building and finally jumping off.

* * *

_A/N: Alright, here it is and welcome to my wonderful world of Gadge, haha! Erm so yeah it's the first fic I've actually ever published so I'm kind of nervous about it and anxious to know what you guys think. Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes, sometimes I'm a bit lame when it comes to proofreading. Anyway, it's a bit long but it's the first chapter to I guess it's okay, I promise the others won't be! I really, really do hope you guys like it and want to know more, please leave me reviews and comments to think about, otherwise you can find me on tumblr if you like ( .com )!_

_* Panem Dollars_


	2. Chapter 2

I swallow the massive, throbbing lump thats been building up in my throat and try to say something, but find my vocal chords completely unresponsive. There's silence all around the square as a shocked and terrified little Prim is forced out of the crowd and begins to make her way to the stage, surrounded by peacekeepers in white suits.

Then Katniss gets a hold of herself and does what I was about to.

"I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" She calls out. Her outburst is followed by a series of whispers, gasps and stares from the entire District. My knees inconveniently lock themselves as Katniss steps up, crossing Prim and climbing up the small wooden stairs.

Prim begins to weep and yell, and I finally get a grip of myself. I dig my nails into my palms to wake myself up and duck under the rope. I jog towards Prim and literally grab hold of the peacekeepers which have been trying to take control over her and throw them off. I'm not strong enough to hold her over my shoulder and I wrap my arms under hers and whisper in her ear.

Luckily the peacekeepers have chosen not to punish me for my disrespect and I manage to get Prim back into the crowd. She cries into my shoulder and holds onto my waist with all her strength. I watch blankly as the baker's son gets reaped, finally putting a name to his face and wait out the rest of the ceremony, thinking of what to say to Katniss when they give us our brief goodbye. Should I let her know what I would do if I were reaped? Give her tips for in the arena? Spend the whole time sobbing and crying into her shoulder or vice versa? Or maybe I should just remain completely silent- what would I want other people to say to me if I were just condemned to most materialistic, publicly humiliating form of death?

They are forced to acknowledge each other and Hawthorne's father takes to the stage again. He reads out the Treat of Treason and when he's done both of the chosen tributes are whisked off by some more peacekeepers into the justice building. I can feel more and more space between me and the rest of the girls, then I realize the crowds are beginning to disperse and its time to move.

I locate Mrs. Everdeen and hand Prim over to her. Her face looks so drained and lifeless, but mostly sad. Sad as though the birds will never sing again and the sun shall never rise another day. Sad because her eldest daughter is to be brutally molded and shaped for publicity before she is tortured and killed on live TV before the entire nation.

* * *

We make our way towards the justice building along with the rest of the district and it's sister, so to speak. All of a sudden a painful feeling sears through my head and my vision blurs. I crumple over, leaning against a wooden wall with my hands covering the sides of my head. I let out a groan, gently tugging on my own hair due to the pain and hoping that it doesn't fall out. I wait, woozy and disoriented until the pain stops and I have control over my senses again. I have no idea how much time I've lost but I sprint up the stairs two at a time. I run down the hallway towards the two doors guarded by peacekeepers. A few tall, clean blondes who could only be from town just exit the one on the right, so I know which one I need.

"I'm sorry, visiting time's over." Says the peacekeeper.

"Please, you don't understand. That's my- my best friend, you have to let me see her." I plea in assertive tone, keeping the shake away from my voice.

The peacekeeper opens his mouth to say no, but then realizes he recognizes me at the same time that I do. I've sold some turkeys to him one or twice.

Reluctantly, he lets me in and I fly towards Katniss who's sitting on a red couch, embracing her with all my weight. She stands up to greet me and we lock ourselves in each other's arms for a few seconds before breaking apart. Her face looks blank and surprisingly calm. I know I'm whiter than chalk and my forehead is creased with worry.

"Try to get your hands on something edible as soon as you can, but not from the Cornucopia. That'll only get you mixed up in the big fight, the careers will finish you before the first minute is over. You know the forest better than anyone, even if it's just a few her-" I begin to say but she cuts me off.

"You don't know the arena's going to be anything like the woods we have here" She protests.

"No, but they might be. Try to get a weapon, though. Sharpen a rock. Try for a knife. _Make a bow." _I stress, although I know it will take days and she probably won't make a very good one.

"My father was the one who made ours, Madge. How do you know there'll be wood?" She asks.

"They always have something ever since they found out all the tributes just died if they couldn't build fires or shelters. Besides, its food that's the real trick. You're a hunter, Katniss. That's much more than you can say about the rest. Hide. Hunt. Eat your food discreetly in a cave and store some water. You're a survivor. As long as you can do that and who knows, maybe, maybe..." But I don't bother to finish the sentence. Instead my eyes drift off to the area just above her right breast. The pale blue fabric is now pierced with a golden pin. It's a circle with a Mockingjay inside of it.

"Where'd you get that?" I say skeptically and feel bad that the only think I could give her in this moment are the very clothes on my back.

"Ga- Hawthorne. Hawthorne gave it to me" She says shyly as quietly, biting her bottom lip.

"Did he now?" I say coldly. I clench my fists at my sides, but decide to let go of my anger. I am not about to ruin what is probably my last minute together with my best friend.

I grab her by her upper arms and widen my blue eyes at her, an alarming sign.

"Don't let anyone feel sorry for you Katniss, promise me." I say in my assertive tone but my voice is still fragile. Just as we pull in for another hug, the peacekeeper barges through the door;.

"Time's up." He says frankly, but I'm not ready to go. I give Katniss one more squeeze and shut my eyes tight, only with a slight hoping that when I open them, this would have been a terrible, terrible nightmare.

_But it's not._

Before I know what's happening, the peacekeeper grabs me by my shoulders and begins to pull me out.

"Take care of them, Madge!" Katniss shrieks violently, as though her life is about to end in one second rather than one week.

"Don't let them starve! Don't let them starve!" She cries, her voice sounding far too rasp.

"You know I wont! I promise Katniss, I won't!" I manage to cry back, my voice hitching as the peacekeeper finally wins the combat against my body and slams the door, obviously making a very clear point. He folds his arm against his broad chest the second he drops me on the carpet floor and glares at me.

* * *

I pick myself up and dust off the back of my dress, then turn on my heel and run back down the hallways and down the staircases, unable to take another second in this damn place. My breathing becomes ragged and I can feel the pain starting to creep back over my body. I don't stop running and coughing until my knees give in and I crumple over, reaching out with my hands and finding myself holding onto the net of the fence. _The Fence. _

My subconscious must have brought me here since its the only place I can go to get some peace and quiet. However, I don't risk going into the forest at this time and ruining the only presentable piece of clothing I own.

My heavy, shaky breathes rake through my body but I don't cry. I haven't cried since my mother died, and I don't intend to. I know people say crying is good and crying makes you a bigger person, but to me it's a sign of weakness. Tears are the residue of self-pity and sobs are the sounds of defeat.

I close my eyes and press my forehead against the cool metal, my fingers still lazily laced in between the metal wires.

Then it happens. I double over, falling to the ground on all fours like a dog. Before I can help it, I start throwing up. My palms dig into the cool earth and my heals press back against the ground. It's not like there'd anything in there to throw up, so it's mostly just stomach fluids which cause my throat to burn due to the fact that it is being stung by my own acids.

However, no matter how hard I try or what I think about, I can't stop. The gagging sensation doesn't go away and I'm covered in my own vomit. It's on the ground, on my hands, face and in my hair. I gag and gag until there's virtually nothing left when I hear a clumsy shuffle of feet behind me.

"Madge?" A deep, rusky yet gentle voice makes itself known.

I spin around immediately and sit there like a pathetic lump, covered in my own puke and staring up at Gale Hawthorne.

"What are you doing here?!" I stammer, shocked by his presence in this part of the district and this close to the fence.

"I followed you." He says cooly. He swallows before he speaks again, eyeing me down, taking in every filthy inch of me into his memory. I can't stand it.

"I saw you run and I thought your might-" He starts but doesn't finish. It's surprising, really. I can tell how out of his element he is, yet he remains confident and unafraid of me, a peculiar thing among boys. Must be one of the millions of perks of being the mayor's son- speaking lessons.

Then he does the strangest thing. He ducks down next to me and pulls out the handkerchief from his pocket. He reaches for me with his hand but I stagger and back and away within a fraction of a second, pushing myself against the fence like a pathetic beast.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." He apologizes to me as though I'm a little child. Nonetheless, he extends his arm again, except this time it's an offering gesture. I stare at the luxurious grey material for some time before reaching out for it with my bony hand and wiping off my wrists. I clean my face and attempt to do so to my hair but there's no point. We stand up at the same time, locking eyes with each other as if there's no trust between us and we constantly need to monitor the other.

"Thanks..." I mutter sadly. I feel slightly bad about dirtying such a precious object, and awkwardly attempt to hand it back. He receives it without a second glance or a double take and stuffs it into the pocket of his trousers.

He's about three quarters of a head taller than me which means I have to look up, which starts to hurt my neck. A long time passes between us and the smell of sick is the air.

"Why'd you give it to her?" I blurt out before I can even think about it. It's been bothering me, and I have know.

"I just wanted her to-. She was my friend." He decides, looking at me with sad but not condescending eyes. They remind me of a young puppy who's just been separated from his mother.

"And you know, a friend of Katniss is a friend of-" And this time I cut him off, sharply.

"No!" I yell angrily. _You don't get to talk about her! _I add in my head.

"Katniss was _not _your friend and you and I," I spit angrily, inching closer to him and pointing my bony finger back and forth between us, "Are _certainly _not either!" I say through my teeth. Our faces are centimeters apart, but then I come to my senses and realize what I'm doing.

Without another guilty word, I turn around on my heal and run straight towards the heart of the Seam, hiding from his hurt eyes and never looking back.

* * *

I spend the best part of two hours lying in the tub in the bathroom which is really just a back room with an old tub, small mirror and two towels hanging on the door. The water went cold forty minutes ago but I can't bring myself to get out.

I'm staring at the ceiling, the sunken wood and the creases it holds. I like to think it stares back, because that way I'm not alone. I always had been, before Katniss. Now I always will be.

I'm not a friendly person. I get angry very quickly. I know that. I yell too much and I'm very insensitive, most of the time. Katniss was one of the very few people able to see past that, but I don't think anyone else in this district ever will.

But I won't want them to. Starting tomorrow, everyone in the Seam will stare at me with pitiful eyes. Feeling sorry for poor, pathetic me. The girl who lost her only friend, how fucking sad. I don't know how I'll be able to take it. I don't think I'll be able to watch Katniss in the arena and retain my sanity at the same time.

I also have to feed Prim and Mrs. Everdeen. Naturally, I don't mind, me and Katniss already agreed on this about a year ago. If one of us were to get reaped, we had to, under all circumstances, fight for their families.

I take a deep breathe and sigh. Then I do so another time but puff out my cheeks, squeeze my eyes shut and pull my entirety underwater, submerging by body and drowning my sorrows in the tub.

* * *

_A/N: I hope you guys liked this one and that it follows up well! I kind of got emotional writing their goodbye scene, let me know what you thought!_


End file.
